Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Black Fridays and White Oatmeal

I did it. I braved black Friday. But I did it in a sort of cowardly way. I didn't venture out until about 6:30a.m. By then the crowds had cleared. When you open at 12:01 that morning, showing up six and a half hours later made me feel like every kind of non-achiever.

Because I was lazy (by black Friday standards) I didn't score the amazing deals I thought I would, but I did score most of my Christmas shopping done. In a mere six and a half hours. (hmmm,.. a theme seems to be happening here,.) I ransacked six stores with merely an eggnog latte to keep me going. I said "no thank you" to the electronics departments at both Target and Toys R Us that still had two hour lines when I showed up.

My last stop was Costco, to stock up for a party we were hosting the next day. Plus hubby had requested some stuff for work, that I quickly forgot. So I had to call the house to figure out what it was my better half was counting on me getting for him. Of course, no one answers the house phone. I was desperately calling all the numbers on my list that belong to some semblance of a family member. My last resort was my boy with a broken leg, who of course, answered the phone. (what else does he have to do, really?)

"Where's dad?" I ask.

"Outside on the rowing machine," he answers.

Hmm,.,. conundrum in a question wrapped inside a mystery - how do I get my question answered? I am desperate."Can you ask K to ask dad what it was he wanted at Costco?"

"Sure." Muffled yelling and threatening and gnashing of teeth. Sound of sliding glass door being opened and thrown shut. I assume the 9 year old has been dispatched on his mission. (A loaf of bread, milk, and some budddah,..)

K comes back and I hear muffled conversation. The broken legged boy gets on the phone. "Shrimp and white oatmeal."

Huh? I've been married to the man for 18 years and I've never known him to want to bring shrimp to work, nor to I have a clue as to what the heck white oatmeal is. Organic, they have. No white. I hate to do it, but I ask anyway, "Big J, can you pleeeeezzzeee go outside and ask daddy again what it is he wants me to get him at Costco?"

I hear a sigh, some metal clanking (which I assume is the phone firmly gripped next to a crutch) and then hopping. Sliding glass door opening. Hopping. Sliding glass door closing. Hopping. Muffled voices. "White tuna and instant oatmeal."

Yes, that makes sense. I promptly hung up on the child; I couldn't stand the sound of more hopping.

1 comment:

Boise Wiebers said...

Love the old school reference to the stick of buddah. I can still picture it! I guess my mind isn't totally gone. :)